Literally literal lives

This cartoon made me laugh my socks off because it brings back so many memories.  All those early pitfalls and unanticipated problems that spiralled from the tiniest bit of communication bijiggery*.

Like when Richy Rich took LB camping for a long weekend with some of the other kids. He was about five. Richy called from the beach on the Friday evening; all eating fish and chips, everyone having a fab time. So, so cool.  First thing in the morning LB got up and said “Home”. He’d camped. Job done.

We tried again later in the year, all of us.  We spelled out to him the number of nights we’d be camping and sleeping in the tent. But obviously overstated the ‘in the tent’ aspect. Got to the New Forest, put up the tent and LB wouldn’t leave it.  We had to come home after three days as one of us was continually tied to the tent, in a boiling hot, heaving campsite. Watching other families do carefree holiday camping type stuff.

“Make him leave the tent”, I hear you shout. “He’s only five years old!”

Er, no. That wasn’t a workable option.

*Bijiggery ain’t a real word but as there aren’t words to describe some of this stuff, I’m making em up.

For more autismy stories, see athomemum: click here.

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